


To Hear You Play

by notanannoyingfangirl



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 06:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3519710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notanannoyingfangirl/pseuds/notanannoyingfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil ends up at a romantic restaurant all alone, luckily the piano player, Dan, is the perfect eye candy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Hear You Play

The soft sound of piano music filled the air, candles flickering on the tables, the whole place screamed ‘romantic’. Unfortunately, Phil was eating alone. There was something depressing about eating alone at a fancy, romantic restaurant, even if you were only there to review the food for your blog.

It was taking too long for his dinner to arrive, and Phil was sick of the atmosphere already, why had he thought this would be a good idea? It was obviously the kind of place you take a date to. He was debating just dashing out, this second, and going out to Starbucks instead, when his wandering eye latched onto the boy playing the piano.

Even in the dimly lit restaurant, it was clear that he was gorgeous – and just Phil’s type. Dark brown fringe cut into a style that mirrored Phil’s own, leather jacket and black skinny jeans that were obviously out of place in this world of dress shirts and ties. Phil didn’t feel the need to leave the restaurant quite so soon.

The piano music was breathtakingly good. It was fluid and emotional and raw. So even after Phil’s long awaited food was gone and he had no reason to be lingering, Phil found himself watching the piano boy.

The restaurant got a good review.

-

Phil found himself going out to eat much more than his blog demanded, spending more time at the romantic restaurant than he would care to admit. He couldn’t help it; he loved listening to the piano music almost as much as he loved watching the boy’s fingers fly across the keys.

It was a Tuesday night, which meant that Phil was seated at his usual table, which was tucked away into the shadows, but close enough to the small stage that he could study the piano player. He was sipping a coffee, having poured so much sugar into it that it couldn’t really be considered coffee, waiting for the piano to start. The piano player, whoever he was, was late.

Phil’s inner musings were interrupted by the chair across from him scrapping across the floor. Phil though he must be dreaming because piano boy was sitting across from him. He was even cuter up close, with coffee colored eyes and dimples. He was dressed in a black shirt, its long sleeves pushed up to his elbows.

“Can I sit here?” he asked, though he was already sitting.

“Yeah, no one’s sitting there,” Phil said, mentally slapping himself. Piano boy probably thought he was weird for coming to a romantic restaurant all by himself. Why couldn’t Phil just seem like a normal person for once?

“Yeah, I know,” the piano boy said with a grin, his teeth shinning like the keys he played so well, “I see you here all the time.”

Phil knew it was his turn to speak, but his brain had short-circuited. Piano boy noticed him?

“And I know you can’t be here for the food, because, honestly, it’s not that great,” he continued. Phil laughed, his nerves settling. Sure, this guy seemed funny and awesome and perfect, but he was probably just as nervous as Phil.

“No,” Phil said, smiling softly, “it’s not for the food.” He may have been wrong, but he thought that piano boy was blushing.

“I’m Dan,” piano boy said, leaning back in his chair and fixing his hair.

“Phil,” Phil said.

“Why do you come here, Phil?” Dan asked, his tone suggestive.

“To hear you play,” Phil said honestly. Dan didn’t appear to be expecting such a straightforward answer, and he leaned forward again.

“Really?” He asked, sounding excited. Phil found himself nodding.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Phil asked, finding his voice.

Dan grinned again, and god was he attractive, fussing with his hair some more, “Hell yeah, I would kill for some Starbucks right now.”

-

The two boys found themselves at a small Starbucks just down the road, both ordering the same Carmel drink and joking about good taste. Dan led Phil to a small, leather couch, sitting close enough that their thighs touched.

“Do you go to university here?” Dan asked, sipping his drink.

“Yep,” Phil nodded, “I’m getting my post graduate in Theatre, Film, and Television. What about you?”

“Oh, um, it’s my gap year,” Dan said, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“Gap year?” Phil asked, surprised. Gap year referred to the year after high school, making Dan only eighteen years old. “You look older than eighteen.”

“It that okay?” Dan asked, “That I’m only eighteen?” Phil thought about it for a minute. He really liked Dan, and even if his mother would kill him for it, Phil found himself nodding.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” he said honestly. Dan looked relieved.

“I was really worried you’d say I was too young, or something,” Dan admitted, “Because I knew you were older.”

The topics changed to less serious things, like favorite movie and TV shows and how much they liked the new season of Doctor Who. They had a lot in common. Dan was telling a story, his arms waving, when he was interrupted by a phone’s vibrating.

Dan pulled his phone out of his pocket, glancing to see who it was.

“Shit!” He said, suddenly, “I totally forgot I was supposed to work the late shift tonight.” Dan launched himself off the couch, turning and offering Phil a hand. Phil let the other boy haul him up, his hand tingling where Dan held it. “I’m really sorry I have to leave so soon,” Dan apologized, not moving his hand from Phil’s.  

“Can I come listen to you play?” Phil asked, blue eyes wide.

“You want to come listen to me play?” Dan asked, surprised. Phil nodded and Dan shrugged, “sure, come on.”

-

“You were amazing,” Phil said as he walked Dan back to his apartment. Dan was blushing, their hands brushing as they walked.

“Thanks,” Dan said, “I’m glad you didn’t leave at the coffee shop.”

Phil felt himself blush, “Me too.” In a sudden rush of confidence, Phil reached over and wrapped his fingers around Dan’s. The younger boy squeezed his hand, but slowed his pace.

“This is my place,” Dan said, gesturing to the small apartment building he had stopped in front of.

“Can I give you my number?” Phil asked.

Dan nodded, handing over his phone. “That was the most fun I’ve ever had,” he admitted.

“Me too,” Phil said with a small smile.

Dan glanced toward his apartment while Phil typed his number into Dan’s contacts. “Do you have to go?” Dan asked, “Or do you want to come inside?”

“I would love to come inside.”

Dan’s apartment was small, but comfortable.

“Sorry for the mess,” Dan apologized as he shoved dirty dishes into the sink.

“Its fine,” Phil said, in fact it was cleaner than Phil’s own place.

“Super Mario Cart?” Dan asked, leading Phil into the lounge.

“Sure,” Phil replied, “you’re going down.”

Some hours later, after Dan had creamed Phil during every race, and Phil knew that it was late and he should have left an hour ago, the two boys lingered in Dan’s doorway.

“I’ll text you,” Dan was saying.

“You better,” Phil said with a grin, trying to muster up the courage to kiss the younger boy. The pair lingered in the hallway, the silence falling around them.

Dan cleared his throat, shifting as if he wasn’t sure what to do or say. “Bye,” he finally settled for, giving Phil a small wave.

“Bye,” Phil repeated, mirroring Dan’s wave as well as his words. Turning, Phil headed down the hallway toward the lift, glancing back just in time to see Dan smack himself in the face.

“I should’ve kissed him,” Phil muttered.

-

Phil found himself walking the now familiar path to the restaurant. He hadn’t posted on his blog since he saw Dan for the first time, but Phil couldn’t really bring himself to care.

A bell jingled cheerfully as Phil opened the door, breathing in the familiar scent of fruity wines and baking bread. Dan was already seated at the piano, his hands flying with practiced ease.

Earlier that morning Dan had texted Phil, asking if he wanted to join him for dinner after he got off work. Phil had agreed, of course, but showed up an hour before Dan would be done, so he could listen to the now familiar music.

Sitting at his usual table, ordering a cup of hot chocolate, Phil waited for Dan to finish.

“You came,” Dan said with a smile as he dropped into the seat across from Phil forty-five minutes later.

“Of course,” Phil replied, “Where to you want to go to eat?”

Dan scratched the back of his head, “do you want to come back to mine? I can cook.”

His caramel-coffee eyes were wide, and it occurred to Phil that Dan probably didn’t have a lot of money for going out to dinner.

“Sure,” Phil said with a grin, “what are you making?”

-

It turned out the extent of Dan’s cooking was pancakes.

“You have to flip them,” Phil said, snatching the pan. Holding it out in front of him, Phil tossed the pancake into the air. Catching it in the pan, Phil smiled smugly at Dan.

“Was that a challenge?” Dan asked, smirking.

When the next pancake was ready to be flipped, Dan grabbed the pan. Tossing it in the air, Dan promptly dropped it onto the floor. Covering his mouth, Phil giggled at the look on Dan’s face.

“I win!” Phil declared.

“Whatever,” Dan grumbled.

Even with Dan’s poor pancake flipping skills – he dropped at least two more – they end up with a good amount of pancakes. They are the best pancakes Phil’s ever eaten.

“That was delicious,” Phil said as he lay across Dan’s couch, his long legs dangling over the end. Dan was sitting on the floor, his head level with Phil’s chest. Phil’s hand was itching to tangle itself in Dan’s hair.

“Those were the best pancakes ever,” Dan agreed. “Mario Cart rematch?”

“You’re on!”

 

-

It was late; the two boys had abandoned video games in favor of going outside. It was a clear night, thousands of stars twinkling in the sky. There was a park not far from Dan’s flat, and Dan had pulled Phil along on of the paths that Phil could barely see. Now they were laying in a clearing, the soft grass tickling the back of Phil’s neck.

“Hey, Phil,” Dan said, sitting up on one elbow.

“Yeah?” Phil said, sitting up to mirror Dan. Instead of saying anything, Dan leaned forward, pressing his lips to Phil’s. It was gentle and sweet and maybe a little messy because neither had very much experience and over far too soon. Phil’s lips were tingling, kissing Dan was the best thing he’d ever felt.

“Was that okay?” Dan asked, blushing. Instead of answering, Phil captures Dan’s lips with his own. Their mouths moved together, sparks of electric seeming to fill the air. Pulling away, both breathing heavily, Phil rested his forehead against Dan’s.

“That was perfect.” 

-

It was a Tuesday, which meant that Phil was at his usual table, listening to his boyfriend play the piano. It had been almost a month since Dan had kissed Phil for the first time.

Today was special; today Dan was coming with Phil to meet his parents after Dan got off work. Phil was nervous, he knew his parents would like Dan, of course they would, but they would not like the fact that he was only eighteen.

Both boys were dressed nicer than usual, Phil in a nice dress shirt and black skinny jeans, Dan in a blazer over one of his wacky t-shirts – he even remembered a belt.

As Dan finished, the last of the music hanging in the air, he stepped off the small stage only to be greeted by an arm around his waist and a kiss on the cheek.

“You were great,” Phil said, smiling at his boyfriend.

“Thanks,” Dan said, blushing slightly, “Where are we meeting your parents?”

“At the pizza place down the road,” Phil said, using his arm around Dan’s waist to pull his in the direction of the door.

The pizza place was small, painted red. It was mostly empty, with only a handful of customers. Phil’s parents were sitting at a booth, both nursing a cup of coffee.

Grabbing Dan’s hand, Phil pulled him over to his parents. He could feel Dan’s hand sweating in his own, and gave Dan’s hand a small squeeze.

“Hi Mum, Dad,” Phil greeted, “This is my boyfriend, Dan.”

“Hi,” Dan said, giving a slight wave with the hand he wasn’t clutching Phil’s in.

“Hello, Dan, it’s lovely to meet you,” Phil’s mother said.

-

Phil had been right; his parents had really liked Dan. When Dan mentioned his age, Phil’s mother had narrowed her eyes, but Phil jumped in that it was almost Dan’s birthday, so really, he was almost nineteen.

“I think that went well,” Dan said as they were lounging in his flat afterwards.

Phil nodded, “I told you they’d like you.”

“I was still nervous,” Dan admitted.

“You spoon!” Phil said with a laugh, “Now it’s my turn, right?”

Dan grinned at him, “yeah, I can’t wait to hear what my family has to say when they find out I’m dating a twenty-two year old.”

“You make me feel so old,” Phil groaned.

-

It was Dan’s birthday, and Phil had insisted on taking him out to dinner. Now they were making out in the backseat of the taxi, and Phil reminded himself to tip the driver extra for not saying anything. Dan’s hand was fumbling with the buttons on Phil’s dress shirt. Phil had the driver take them back to his place, because it was closer. Dan had never actually been to Phil’s flat, and Phil was trying not to be nervous.

Dan’s lips on his were a great distraction.

The cab slowed to a stop, and Phil all but tossed the driver a handful of pounds, not waiting for change. Pulling Dan with him, into the flat, their lips never separating, Phil pushed Dan’s blazer off, leaving it on the floor where it fell. Dan had finally succeeded with the buttons and Phil’s shirt, and only pulled away from the kiss to pull his t-shirt off. Phil followed his lead, and slipped his own shirt off.

“Bedroom?” Dan asked, breathless. Grabbing Dan’s hand, Phil pulled him further into the flat.

-

The next morning Phil awoke to the soft sound of breathing. Blinking sleep from his eyes, Phil realized why he felt so warm. His arms were wrapped around Dan’s waist, their legs tangled. Dan’s face was inches from his own, brown eyes still closed as his chest rose and fell with every breath.

Gently climbing out of bed, so as to not wake the younger boy, Phil wandered into the kitchen.

By the time Dan walked out of Phil’s bedroom, rubbing his eyes, Phil was finishing the pancakes he was making.  Dan was still shirtless, and Phil tried not to let his eyes linger on the finger shaped bruises that spotted his boyfriend’s waist.

Dan’s hair was curling at the end; something Phil thought was incredibly adorable.

“Morning,” Phil said, waiting for his coffee to cool.

“Phil?” Dan asked, “Why is your kitchen a mess?”

“What’s wrong with my kitchen?” Phil said, glancing around. Dan’s only response was to raise his eyebrows.

“Why are all of your cupboards open?” Dan asked. Phil just shrugged. “And the sugar all over your counter?”

Stepping forward, Dan closed the distance between them. Bending down, Phil rested his forehead against Dan’s. “At least I don’t have piles of clothes everywhere,” he teased.

“No, but what about all of your socks?” Dan asked, wrinkling his nose.

“Actually shut up!” Phil said, mock glaring at his boyfriend.

“Make me,” Dan shot back, placing his hands on Phil’s waist, pulling him even closer.

Pressing a quick kiss to Dan’s lips, Phil turned back to the breakfast he was making. Dan pouted as Phil pulled away, but smiled when Phil handed him a cup of coffee.

“I could get used to this,” Dan said.

-

Dan had taken to staying at Phil’s flat more than he was at his own. Phil didn’t mind, he loved having Dan stay with him, loved falling asleep in Dan’s arms. Phil loved everything about Dan. He loved the way Dan made fun of him for not being able to make a cup of coffee without spilling sugar everywhere, loved the way Dan would forget to straighten his hair, loved the way Dan would hog all of the blankets so that they had to cuddle all night if Phil wanted under the duvet.

He just hadn’t told him yet.

Phil was sure that Dan knew how he felt about him. It wasn’t like Dan had said anything, either.

They were once again at the restaurant where they had met. Dan was on stage, about to start playing, and Phil at his usual table. It had been six months since they talked for the first time.

Dan stretched his arms, cracking his fingers. He glanced around the restaurant, and cleared his throat into the microphone. A handful of couple’s heads shot up, snapping toward the stage, Dan had never spoken before he played.

“I would just like to say,” Dan said, clearing his throat awkwardly, “that I wrote this song myself. I actually wrote it for my boyfriend, so, um, Phil this is for you,” then he began to play.

The song was beautiful; it was the most beautiful thing Phil had ever heard. Dan pressed the keys softly, the music filling the air. Usually quite conversation would filter through the restaurant, today the audience was spellbound.

“That was gorgeous,” Phil said, later, as Dan stepped off the stage. Dan blushed, his face glowing bright red.

“Thanks, I was just going to play it for you at home, but…” Dan explained, before Phil cut him off.

“Home?” Phil asked, feeling a grin fix itself onto his face. Dan blushed again, shoving his hands into his pockets.  

“Yeah,” he said, “home.”

It occurred to Phil, then, that maybe he and Dan had been saying ‘I love you’ all along. It was just hidden inside other phrases such as a joking ‘I hate you’ or ‘it’s late, go to sleep’. He didn’t want to hide it anymore.

“I love you,” Phil declared. Dan reached up, pressing their lips together. Pulling away, he grinned shyly.

“I love you, too,” Dan said, chewing on his lip.

Phil held out his hand, wiggling his fingers. Dan wrapped his fingers between Phil’s, smiling at the older boy.

“Let’s go home.” 


End file.
